Change is a strange thing. Earlier this evening I was putting my 8 year old to bed. As I laid down next to him, following his bedtime story, a police siren shrieked from a few blocks away. He didn’t toss or turn or even hear it. I barely noticed it myself. When I finally did take note of the shrill, I remembered how as a young boy we would run to the window or out on the porch to find out what the problem was. Now we hardly notice. It’s not like we live in a high crime area. We don’t. It’s a quiet, middle class neighborhood with comfortable homes and yards. Neighbors who work hard and take pride in their children’s achievements.
I guess the amount of trouble has increased in our lives. At one time, trouble would make a rare appearance, now it’s familiar visitor. So familiar that it’s high pitched yelp has become the background noise to a normal life. While you and I are not facing trouble we know it’s out there. Surrounding us. Have we really come that far from living in a cave? Tonight I know how that Neanderthal felt when heard the roar of a cave lion in the middle of the night.